and planes in the faint gray light, the skin dead and cold, but
the sharp eyes certain.
“You train hard, Coil Ohmsford,” he said in that familiar
whispery voice. Ulfkingroh loses ground on you every day.
Coil nodded without speaking, waiting to hear what the
other had really come to tell him.
“This cloak,” Rimmer Dali said, as if in answer. “It is time
that you understood what it is for.”
Coil could not hide his surprise. “Why?”
The other glanced away as if thinking through his answer.
The gloved hand lifted and fell again, a black scythe. “I told you
that your brother was in danger, that you in turn were in dan-
ger, all because of the magic and what it might do. I had thought
to use you to bring your brother to me. I let it be known you
were here. But your brother remains in Tyrsis, unwilling to
come for you.”
He paused, looking for Coil’s response. Coil kept his face an
expressionless mask.
“The magic he hides within himself,” the First Seeker whis-
pered, “the magic that lies beneath the wishsong, begins to con-
sume him. He may not even realize it yet. He may not
understand. You’ve sensed that magic in him, haven’t you? You
know it is there?”
He shrugged. “I had thought to reason with him when I
found him. I think now that he may refuse to listen to me. I had
hoped that having you at Southwatch would make a difference.
It apparently has not.”
Coil took a deep breath. “You are a fool if you think Par
will come here. A bigger fool if you think you can use me to
trap him.”
Rimmer Dali shook his head. “You still don’t believe me, do
you? I want to protect you, not use you. I want to save your
brother while there is still time to do so. He is a Shadowen,
Coil. He is like me, and his magic is a gift that can either save
or destroy him.”
A gift. Par had used that word so often, Coil thought bleakly.
“Let me go to him then. Release me.”
The big man smiled, a twisting at the corners of his mouth.
“I intend to. But not until I have confronted your brother one
more time. I think the Mirrorshroud will let me do so. This is
a Shadowen magic, Vaieman-a very powerful one. It took me
a long time to weave it. Whoever wears the cloak appears to
those he encounters as someone they know and trust. It masks
the truth of who they are. It hides their identity. I will wear it
when I go in search of your brother.” He paused. “You could
help me in this. You could tell me where I might find him,
where you think he might be. I know he is in Tyrsis. I don’t
know where. Will you help me?”
Coil was incredulous. How could Rimmer Dali even think
of asking such a thing? But the big man seemed so sure of him-
self, as if he were right after all, as if he knew the truth far
better than Coil.
Coil shook his head. “I don’t know where to find Par. He
could be anywhere.”
For a long moment Rimmer Dali did not respond, but simply
stood looking at the Valeman, measuring him carefully, the hard
eyes fixed on him as if the lie could be read on his face.
“I will ask again another time,” he said finally. The heavy
boots scraped on the stone of the walkway. “Return to your
sparring. I will find him on my own, one way or the other.
When I do, I will release you.”
He turned and walked away. Coil stared after him, looking
not at the man now but at the cloak he carried, thinking, If I
could just get my hands on that cloak for five seconds . . . .
HE WAS STILL THINKING ABOUT IT when he woke the next day.
A cloak that when worn could hide the identity 0f the wearer
from those he encountered, making him appear to be someone
they trusted-here at last was a way out of Southwatch. Rimmer